


Of All the People Passing

by PercyKane



Series: All I See is Gold - Kink Bingo [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Businessman!Derek, Kink Bingo: Prostitution, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn with Potential Plot, Prostitute!Stiles, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-24
Updated: 2014-05-24
Packaged: 2018-01-26 07:58:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1680695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PercyKane/pseuds/PercyKane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kink Bingo Slot: Prostitution</p><p>"How much?" The stranger asks again in that gravelly voice that Stiles should not find attractive. Mainly because he doesn't find anything attractive anymore and hasn't for quite awhile. He sighs because he had been leaning towards going home. Then again, what's the bet this guy is all outwards masculinity and Stiles will be able to make him cum in five minutes?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of All the People Passing

**Author's Note:**

> I really struggled with this one. It's possibly one of my favourite tropes and I had ten different ways I wanted to write it. Here's what I went with!
> 
> Title from All I See is Gold by Bridgit Mendler

He counts the notes he's collected from the night. Theres three hundred dollars all up, it's not bad for a full night of work. His watch tells him can call it a night and get some decent sleep before he has to be up for his day job, or he can work the next hour and be tired tomorrow but have a little more cash in his wallet.

He chews on his lip and debates his decision. Tomorrow's a Wednesday so the coffee shop is going to be busy. Hump day means everyone needs double the caffeine to get through the second half of the week. 

"How much?" A husky voice asks from Stiles' left. He whirls, caught off guard and stumbles on the gutter of the sidewalk. A hand shoots out from the dark to steady him. It's hot and feels like a fiery brand melting into the skin of his upper arm. 

"Thanks," Stiles squeaks. Stumbling backwards he pulls away from the man, almost ripping his arm from his socket in his attempt to detach himself from the strangers hold. 

"I didn't mean to scare you."

"You didn't scare me," Stiles huffs, "you startled me. Don't you know better than to creep up on people in the dark?" His heart is still rabbiting a mile a minute and he forces his breathing to even out. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. He did not want to have a panic attack in the middle of the night in a place like this. That would leave him all sorts of vulnerable he didn't even want to think about.

"How much?" The stranger asks again in that growls gravelly voice that Stiles should not find attractive. Mainly because he doesn't find anything attractive anymore and hasn't for quite awhile. He sighs because he had been leaning towards going home. Then again, what's the bet this guy is all outwards masculinity and Stiles will be able to make him cum in five minutes?

The 'I am man hear me roar' ones never lasted very long.

Should be an easy fifty and it'll mean he won't have to live off ramen noodles for the rest of the week.

"Fifty for a suck."

"My cars at the end of the street." The man steps out of the shadows of the towering warehouse Stiles has been standing in front of and starts making his way down the road. He moves too quick for Stiles to get a glimpse of his face with the exception of a flash of stubble. They're almost the same height, Stiles is possibly an inch taller but this guy is massive. 

He's double Stiles' width, broad shoulders and a heavily muscled back that seems to ripple under the tightness of his white shirt. His biceps looks like they're struggling to burst out of the short tight sleeves and Stiles has to force his eyes away because he should not be eyeing a John like a piece of candy. The guy is built like a brick shit house and that makes him wary.

He's got pepper spray in his pocket and he knows enough self defence to protect himself from the usual creepers who won't take no for an answer but this guy is bigger than anyone Stiles has had to deal with before. He doesn't doubt if he wanted something, he'd have no trouble forcing Stiles to do it. 

Parked on the corner of Turner street is a silver Toyota. Sleek and expensive. The sight of it makes Stiles wish he'd doled the price he was going to charge. Looks like the man could definitely afford it. 

"How to you want to do this?" The John asks without turning to face Stiles. He pulls a tiny remote out of his pocket and unlocks the car with a little flicker of the headlights. 

"In the back, get comfortable and I'll work around that. Keys and remote go in the front seat and the doors stay unlocked." Safety first, that's his mantra. Speaking of which, as he watches the stranger deftly climb into the back of the oversized vehicle, he pats his back pocket. Oh good, he's got one condom left.

He doesn't usually go through a whole reel but he'd been on a roll tonight, picking up guys left, right and centre. 

The shifting in the back seat stops and Stiles peers in to take in the scene. The owner of the car has rolled the driver's seat forward and down, followed by the passenger seat. There's a whole lot of room for Stiles to crawl between the guys legs and kneel comfortably on the floor of the car. Which he has to admit, will be a first for him. Comfort while kneeling and sucking a guy off in a car, that is. 

"Alright, let's do this!" Stiles says as he hoists himself into the back. For a moment his face is incredibly close to the John's and he's caught in the intensity of those emerald green eyes that remind him of a cat. Jesus, close up the guy looked like a fucking model. Why the hell did he need to pay someone to suck him off?

Stiles is pretty sure if this guy walked into a club minus his pants everyone in his vicinity would be on their knees in front of him within seconds. Unless...he may have some performance issues. Which would make sense. A good looking, wealthy man who doesn't want the shame he might experience with a pickup. 

If he's paying for it though, it's kind of Stiles' job to pretend like it's sexy to shoot after a couple tugs, or take an hour to get hard, or be two inches in length. Seriously, he's had them all.

The man beneath him smirks and it brings Stiles back to the surface. He rolls his eyes and drops to his knees, ignoring the protest from his calves and thighs. He may have a lot more room but it doesn't erase the fact he's done this six times already tonight and his legs are sick of it. 

He makes quick work of the guys zipper and tugs the jeans until they're passed strong, sculpted thighs covered in dared dusting a of hair. Stiles has to take a deep breath to steady himself because he hasn't been this close to a hot person...ever. He never gets attracted or turned on by his johns or what he does. 

But he's really struggling right now.

Because this guy is like a gift from god and there's a part of Stiles that is hoping this guy has a tiny dick or performance issues otherwise there is going to be some serious issues here. He can already feel heat pooling in his stomach at the sight of the sexy man sprawled out watching him movements with lazy eyes. 

It's straight out of his fantasies.

Almost.

In his fantasies he's not usually prostituting himself out.

The stranger is wearing black boxer briefs that are tight but in the dark give nothing's way as two hat lies beneath. Eager but filled with anxiety, Stiles plays with the edges, teases the guy but also himself. It's not like him at all. He normally just gets straight to mouth on dick. But there's a part of him that wants to enjoy this. That isn't sure he'll ever be able to be intimate with another person without issues arising. Let alone someone this hot.

So Stiles lets his fingers ghost the John's thighs. He digs in his fingertips and massages the tissue, mouth hovering over his groin close enough he knows the man can feel his breath through the thin material of his underwear. Stiles licks his lips and his tongue brushes like a feather over the firming form beneath the fabric. 

He looks straight up from under his lashes at the man. His eyes are wide, pupils blown as they track the motion of Stiles' tongue licking his own lips. Oh yes, he plans to enjoy this. 

He hooks his long fingers in the band of the underwear and pulls it down swiftly. Watches with fascination as a thick cock comes out. It's better than he could of hoped for and he knows that's just going to make this so much worse. It's not a monster dick, thank god. He'd hazard it's a comfortable six inches in length but Stiles would be surprised if his fingers were to meet if he put his hand around it.

He decides to test that theory. He slides his hands up the other mans thighs, sifting through the dark curly leg hair. He frames the cock with his hands, not touching and yet so close, the man beneath him squirms in anticipation. He wants to look up, to meet the man's intense gaze again but he can't take his eyes off the cock in front of him.

It's gorgeous, hard and flushed dark red. His balls are drawn up tightly, visible branch the neatly trimmed dark pubic hair. Stiles' mouth waters and his own dick chubs up in his jeans. He curses his choice of skinny jeans, although it's never been a problem before now. He wants to readjust himself but doesn't want his John to know he's getting off on this.

Without anymore preamble he fists the cock. Holds it like he holds his own in those rare times when he actually had the energy and lust to jerk himself off. He's firm but gentle, stroking in long slow pumps that he knows is going to drive the guy mad. To his surprise his fingers do meet around do the thick rod. Only just though. 

And now he can't stop watching the way the foreskin rolls under his fingers. Most of the men he's worked have been cut. There's probably only one of two out of all of the men from the lasts is months, that weren't. Stiles had to cared. He was cut and maybe had a panic moment where he wasn't sure if doing the same thing for the guy would work but it had. So the second time hadn't been any different from anyone else.

This guy though. His foreskin mesmerises Stiles. He wants to stick his tongue inside it and lap around the head. Nibble at it with his teeth and suck it away from the hard member. It's that reminds him of the condom. It's also the first time he actually considers not using it. 

The top of the guy's cocks starts weeping and Stiles lets go to fondle the man's balls while he gropes for this condom in his back pocket. It isn't until he's ripped the packet open and is preparing to roll it down when he realises it's not going to fit. 

"Fuck." 

"What?" If it's possible, the man's voice is even huskier. He's out of breath, a blush high on his perfect chiselled cheeks and oh the fact Stiles is the one responsible for that expression is making him all kinds of inappropriately hot and bothered.

"You're too thick for the condom," Stiles tells him, a little breathless himself. He just wants to get his mouth on this guy. He needs to be sucking him off like yesterday. 

"I've got some bigger ones in new wallet," the guy suggests, pointing down at where his pants are pooled around his ankles. Stiles blinks at him, between his legs, wondering if he's heard correctly. Then his brain kicks into gear and he's digging in the loose jeans for AHAH! Wallet. Sure enough there are three Large condoms one of which rolls perfectly onto the guys dick, fitting snugly but not tight enough to be restricting. 

"What's your name?" Stiles murmurs, tongue flicking out over the head of the guys dick. There's a hitch of breath and green eyes is trying to form words.

"D-Derek," he moans loudly when Stiles hums thoughtfully and engulfs the man's cock entirely, "why?" 

Instead of telling him Stiles decides to show him.

He works Derek's cock with the attention to detail he saves for the few things in life he's truly passionate about. He doesn't have a much of gag reflex and Derek isn't stupidly long so he can get most of him inside his mouth without any issue. The thickness though, that has his lips stretched to their maximum limit and Stiles can only imagine what that looks like.

Red lips spit slick and stretched to accommodate Derek's wide girth. Plush and swollen with the effort, working their way from the tip of his length to meet the very base of it. He works with a steady rhythm, sticks to a familiar breathing pattern and takes Derek deeply but not too fast. 

That's the mistake most people make. You don't need incredible speed to get there. Not if you're working hard enough.

He's got one hand wrapped around the base of Derek's cock so he can keep it in places while the other rolls and squeezes his balls. He knows he likes it on that side of a little too much and testingly squeezes Derek's balls tightly in his fist as he deep throats him and holds his mouth at the base for as long as he can.

Derek groans, hips thrusting up frantically when Stiles pulls back and then goes in for the kill again. He keeps going like that, delivering even blows of pleasure and pain until Derek is writhing beneath him, fingers scrambling for purchase on the leather upholstery. The noises he's making go straight to Stiles cock and this time he has to drop Derek's balls to readjust himself. He sighs around Derek's dick when he's flicked his own fly open enough to get some relief and doesn't catch Derek's sharp inhale.

"I'm gonna' cum," Derek hisses, thrusting helplessly into Stiles' sloppy wet mouth. He knows he's got saliva all over his chin and cheeks but he doesn't care, the feeling of Derek stretching his mouth is too good. Makes him fantasise about what it would feel like to have that dick split him open and fuck him into the floor. 

"Come on, Derek," Stiles purrs, "Cum for me." He doubles his efforts until finally Derek groans gutturally and cums, body going tight like a guitar string and then snapping, slumping in a heap. Stiles pulls the condom off quickly and ties it, opens the car just enough to toss it onto the sidewalk and shut it before the cold air can get in.

He needs a minute to gather his wits because he's so fucking hard right now he's worried if he brushes against anything he's going to cum in his pants. Completely untouched. With his John slumped on this seat watching him through droopy eyelids.

"Do it," Derek mumbles and Stiles looks at him, confused. "Cum. It's okay, I don't mind." 

Fuck. And Stiles wants to. Wants to so bad but that's crossing a line he knows he can't. So he just shakes his head and zips up his jeans as quickly as he can. He flings the car door open and all but jogs away to where his jeep is parked a few streets over. 

"Wait!" He hears Derek call behind him but he doesn't stop. Can't stop. This wasn't some hookup from a club. There was no happy ending for Stiles. Argh. He just wanted to get home and angrily jerk off so he could go to sleep and forget about the beautiful man with stubble and cat eyes.

"Wait, please, I just..." Derek skidded to a halt in front of him, blocking his way. He looked frantic and for one fearful moment Stiles hoped he hadn't picked a crazy.

"What?"

"You didn't let me pay you?" Stiles isn't sure why it's a question but Derek's right, he'd completely forgotten the money transaction part. And isn't that just a cold wet slap in the face. Fuck his life. Derek's hand is extended, perfectly smooth and unblemished bills offered to him. 

"How much for everything?" Derek asks breathlessly after Stiles has taken the money and shoved it in his pocket without looking. His shoulders tense and he refuses to make eye contact because this part never goes down well.

"I don't do that. Blowjobs only," Stiles tells him in clipped tones. That's right, a prostitute that doesn't actually have sex with you. Well, not the penetrative kind. But Derek, Derek actually looks really pleased about that. 

"Why do you do this?" The question startles Stiles enough he answers without thinking.

"I need the money," he shrugs, "I have students loans to pay off and my dad passed away last year, left behind a lot of debt I didn't know about. Enough a job as a barista can't cover anyway."

"What about your mom?"

"She died when I was ten."

Stiles wasn't sure why he was telling Derek all this. Maybe it was because he was the first person to ask. Maybe it was just because Stiles was so fucking lonely and for a single minute wanted to feel like someone might care. 

"How much do you usually make a night, doing...this?"

"Uh well tonight I made 300? 350 including you but I was about to call it a night. Sometimes I only make 100 though."

"I'll pay you a thousand a night," Derek promises like he's just asked Stiles where the closed post office is. Stiles gapes at him and then looks around wondering if cameramen are about to jump out because this has to be a joke.

"I will pay you a thousand dollars a night to be mine. Only mine."

"Are you fucking with me?" Stiles blurts out.

"No. I can give it to you in cash or have a direct debit set up to go straight into your bank account." 

"Dude, I only just met you, I have no idea who you are. I appreciate the offer but you can't seriously expect me to believe you?" Stiles points out. Derek nods and holds something else out towards Stiles. It's a business card with an email, mobile number and the name Derek Hale printed in red next to a red stamp of a skyscraper and the words Hale Industries. 

"Look me up. Then call me? We can work something out." 

Stiles wants to say no. Wants to push past this guy and run straight for his car. But he also wants to say yes. He's not really sure what to do so he stands there like an idiot and let's Derek walk up to him and kiss him. A soft, teasing kiss that is full of promises and 'trust me'. And then he's gone. Melting back into the shadows with no sound of his footsteps on the pavement.

 

The next day Stiles googles Derek Hale.

It's three days later that he finally decides to dial the number.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a stand alone fic that is apart of my All I See is Gold Series.
> 
> I'm [mercurybay](http://www.mercurybay.tumblr.com) on tumblr. :)


End file.
